10 Ways Sam Winchester's Been Kissed
by Mali Bear's Buddy
Summary: Snapshots of different ways Sam Winchester has been kissed by the women in his life. Mostly characters you'll recognize with a few OCs. OS Series. Mary, Amy, Jessica, Sarah, Madison, Bela, Ruby, Gina, Jo...and Halley! Now Complete.
1. Mary

**A/N: **I've spent most of my time so far playing with Dean but, after #NashCon and seeing Jared Padalecki up close (he's yummy!), I just can't help myself...

This one is going to be 10 Chapters about the different ways Sam Winchester's gotten kissed. Some will be short, others long. They'll be in chronological order and many of them will be characters you recognize from the show, with a few OCs.

Many, many thanks to pal and fellow writer **stephaniew** for the read-through. I wouldn't be posting if not for her encouragement and support.

**Disclaimer:** I don't own _Supernatural._

Chapter 1: Mary

It's around 8:30 when Mary slips into her baby's nursery. Her blonde hair glows in the lamplight as she changes Sam, tickling him softly as she swaddles him in his blanket. She sighs as she settles in the old rocking chair and marvels at the quiet of the house wondering what her husband and older child are up to.

She's been on her feet all day, constantly moving - the grocery store, cleaning house, chasing Dean in the yard, fixing dinner for her boys. It's nice to just sit for a moment and think about everything that has brought her to this moment. She wouldn't trade this life - the life of a wife and mother - for the life of the hunter she was raised to be. Or for anything else. Her family means everything to her.

She rocks back and forth in a gentle rhythm. She sings him a lullaby, it's the same tune she used to sing to her older son. Her voice is gentle and soothing. She waits, watching as Sam's eyelids become heavy, tiny eyelashes fanning gently across his pink cheeks.

With a smile, she closes her eyes and savors the weight of the baby in her arms. At the sound of the toilet flushing and feet padding down the hallway, she cracks her right eye open. "Dean Winchester," she calls quietly. "Did you brush your teeth?"

The four year old peeks around the doorframe. He shifts from one foot to the other before drawing circles in the carpet with his toes and tucking his hands behind his back. "Yes..." he answers without looking at her.

She laughs and shakes her head. "Go brush them and pick out a story," she tells him. "I'll be down in a few minutes to tuck you in."

"Yes, ma'am," he huffs, turning and running back down the hall the way he came.

Mary listens closely and waits until she hears the water running in the sink. "Good boy..." she whispers with a smile.

In her arms, Sam stirs slightly. She cuddles him close to her chest and looks down at the way his tiny fingers flex around the blanket as he closes his eyes again. She stands, humming softly as she rocks him back and forth.

She strokes his feathery hair tenderly and watches with wonder as his tiny mouth opens in a yawn. Bending, she brushes her lips softly over his forehead before placing him in his crib. "Good night, sweet Sammy," she utters. Unable to resist, she presses a kiss to her fingertips and touches his mouth lightly. "Mommy loves you..."


	2. Amy

**A/N: **I sat down to write this one and my muse took it in a completely different direction. I'm still not quite sure how I feel about it...but it's the next logical step in the process. More importantly, it's the bridge to Chapter 3 where (in my opinion) the real fun starts!

Many thanks to my good friend **stephaniew** for her unending support...

**Disclaimer:** I don't own _Supernatural._

Chapter 2: Amy

Sam Winchester is 9 years old. He was thrilled when he'd gotten the invitation to Tim Simpson's birthday party, but as he watches Dean pull away from the curb, his stomach flip-flops. He isn't normal. He isn't like the other kids. He doesn't fit in. This is a mistake. A big mistake.

He wishes he was more like his brother - cool and confident. But he isn't. He's shy and quiet. Sometimes he gets teased and bullied. Well, at least until Dean finds out about it and then it stops. He wishes he could stop it on his own. That he didn't need to rely on Dean's protection.

The clarity of the error truly comes into focus when they follow Tim down to the basement. The birthday boy directs everyone to sit in a circle - boy, girl, boy, girl.

Sam knows this won't end well - he can feel it in his toes - but he sits anyway. He can feel the cool tile of the floor through his worn jeans. He rubs sweaty palms over his thighs and remains silent.

Jamie Newman from his math class sits to his left, her knee brushing his as she sits indian style beside him. She smiles shyly at him.

On his right, Chrissy Jenkins pulls modestly at her skirt. She tosses her ponytail over her shoulder and raises her nose in the air snootily. The action causes Sam to shake his head. He's unbothered. He's used to her behavior and has come to expect it.

There are eight of them total - four boys and four girls - and Sam gulps audibly as Tim places an empty Coke bottle on the floor in the middle of the circle. "What's the matter, Winchester?" he teases. "You a puss? You scared to kiss a girl?"

"No," Sam replies, trying to sound grown up. "Why would I be afraid?"

"Just checkin'," Tim answers. "Wouldn't wanna have to call your mommy to come get you." The barb stings, hitting exactly where it's meant to, but Sam just smiles. "I'd make it ladies choice," he continues, "But seein' as it's my birthday, I get the first spin."

Sam watches the bottle as it spins. The red label is a blur as the heavy green glass moves quickly at first, then slows until it stops on Jamie.

"Woo-hoo!" Tim hollers, rubbing his hands together. "Jackpot!'

Sam watches in disgust as boy leans across the group and plants one firmly on Jamie's lips. He sees her flinch and wishes he could _do_ something, wonders if he should _say _something.

Tim sits back on his heels as if contemplating the universe. He rubs his chin. "Do we give the girls a spin next or..." he says looking at his guests. His eyes settle on Amy and he smirks.

Amy Reynolds was a big boned girl. Her hair always looked like it needed a good washing and her clothes were always just this side of dingy. They weren't dirty, mind you, just faded and old. They were probably hand-me-downs from a sister or cousin who'd outgrown them.

It dawns on him that Amy fits in even less with this crowd than he does. Sam's eyes fall back to the bottle as it spins slower and slower. He holds his breath, silently willing it to go just slightly further, but it stops. It stops and he doesn't want Amy to feel bad, so he smiles.

He smiles and she pounces on him, knocking him to the floor. She's on top of him. Her mouth is firm, her lips unyeilding as she presses them to his. She tastes like pizza as she thrusts her tongue stiffly between his lips.

He feels like he's suffocating and struggles against her weight until he finally manages to push her off. Push her off and run. Up the stairs, out the Simpson's front door and two blocks away before he stops and leans against a tree.

If that's what kissing's like, he's not sure he wants to be kissed again for as long as he lives. And it was gonna be a while before he'd be able to eat pizza again either...


	3. Jessica

**A/N: **I'm excited and a little nervous about this one...

How much do we really know about how Sam and Jessica started out? I thought it might be fun to take a little glimpse into their story and this is what I came up with...

But first, a few thank-yous:

...to friend and fellow author **stephainew** for her help with and support of this and all my stories. Check her out.

...to my pal Cyndi, who even after a couple beers, found several typos that Steph and I missed.

...and to everyone who has alerted or shown interest in this story...especially **Tears of ****Estel** for making me grin with her lovely reviews. I'd like to dedicate this one to her...Enjoy! :)

**Disclaimer:** I don't own _Supernatural._

Chapter 3: Jessica

The sky is black when they walk out of Stanford's science lab. It's late in the spring semester and the early summer shower is a surprise, the rain falling in sheets across the freshly cut campus courtyard.

Sam watches as his lab partner, Jessica, dances ahead of him. She's beautiful with her silky blonde hair and shining smile. There's a lightness to her that he isn't used to; something carefree and, perhaps, a little wild. He likes her. A lot. He just hasn't gotten up the nerve to ask her out...not yet anyway.

He grins, marveling at how the large droplets mold her t-shirt to her skin and cause her damp ponytail to curl slightly. She laughs as lightning flashes across the sky and he hurries to catch up. Together, they run the remaining distance to his dorm. "You should come up," he says, trying to catch his breath. "Your building is nearly on the other side of the campus, you'll get soaked."

Strands of wet hair cling to her forehead and cheeks. Aside from the shiny gloss on her lips, she wears very little make-up. The edges of her bra, once hidden beneath her shirt, are now visible beneath the clinging, pink cotton. She looks like a mermaid.

"I'm already soaked," she laughs, her teeth beginning to chatter as they stand beneath the overhang of the doorway. She blushes at the feel of his eyes on her skin, surprised to feel beautiful in her disheveled state. His smile is goofy and open. He looks like a big kid.

"So come up and dry out then," he offers as he opens the door and holds it for her.

She stares at him for a moment, her blue eyes uncertain. She's not afraid of him. He's a nice guy, sweet if not a little shy. Yet there's something about him she can't put her finger on.

A former cheerleader, she's used to having boys flock to her. With a soft smile or gentle touch, they'd do anything she asked. But not Sam Winchester. No, she'd been flirting with him for weeks. Trying to get him to notice. Trying to gauge his interest. Nothing. He was guarded, quiet. Aside from a blush and an occasional smile, she had nothing to go on...until tonight.

"Come on," he directs, taking her hand and leading her towards the stairs. "I'll lend you a sweatshirt or something and we can throw your clothes in the dryer."

His roommate is gone, so they're alone in the room. He closes the door behind them hoping she doesn't think he planned this, not that he had any control over the weather. He moves over to his dresser, suddenly unable to look at her, and begins to look for a sweatshirt. Pulling one from the drawer, he turns back to face her. "So," he says softly, trying to keep things light. "Lab is interesting..."

She laughs. It bubbles out, lighting her eyes. "Let's not talk about dissection," she says, shaking her head as she brushes a lock of hair off her face. She offers him a warm smile.

He can't resist stepping closer and brushing the remaining strands away with tips of his fingers. He lets the shirt drop to their feet, his hands moving to tenderly caress her face and smooth her hair back.

"Sam," she murmurs softly, her eyes searching his.

He remains still, green eyes dropping to her mouth. He watches, mesmerized as the tip of her tongue darts across her lower lip. She swallows before drawing the tiny pillow between her teeth. He holds his breath as his eyes travel back to hers.

Standing on tip-toe, Jessica slips her hands over his shoulders to cup his neck and pulls his mouth down to hers. She kisses him so softly that their lips barely even touch. When he sighs, she presses closer and her tongue teases at the center of his upper lip.

The warmth of her mouth on his is unlike anything he's ever experienced. She tastes like bubble gum and smells like sunshine. He steps closer, his hands on her hips as he presses her back against the door.

"I've wanted to kiss you for a long time," he confesses when they pull apart. "Probably since the first time I saw you." He hesitates for a moment, watching her blue eyes flutter closed, before kissing her again. This time, his lips move confidently over hers and he feels her hands on his chest in response.

They're both still soaked from the rain. He tugs at the hem of her shirt, pulling it up as his hands slide along her rib cage. His eyes are glued to hers as it smacks in a wet heap on the tile floor.

She shivers as the cool air of the room hits her damp skin. On reflex, her hands move to cover the pale cotton of her bra and the slight cleavage created by its demi cups.

He bends to kiss the curve of her neck and teases her with a kiss near her belly button as he squats to retrieve the sweatshirt from the floor. While there, he removes her tennis shoes and smiles when he notices her brightly painted toenails and the delicate silver bracelet circling her ankle.

Standing up, he hands her the well-worn garment and pulls off his own shirt with the intent of grabbing another for himself. Suddenly, she's in his arms, the scrap of cotton all that separate their upper bodies as their mouths crush together.

He flips their positions, propelling her further into the room. Carefully, he puts one knee on the bed and lowers her to the mattress. He kisses her eyelids and the tip of her nose before seizing her mouth in a blazing kiss. Lowering himself with her, he balances his weigh above her with one arm while his other hand strokes over her skin in lazy circles.

His roommate bursts into the room and Jessica gasps, diving behind Sam for cover. She quickly pulls on his sweatshirt and leans against his back. He can feel the heat of her blush against his bare skin. "Don't you knock?" he growls.

"Sorry," the other guy shrugs. "Didn't realize you had company." He throws himself down on his cot and flips on the TV. With a wave of his hand, he says. "Carry on, don't mind me."

Sam turns to Jessica and she whispers softly, "I should go…"

"I'll walk you," he offers.

She shakes her head and quickly grabs her shoes.

"Jessica!" he calls after her. He hurries to his dresser and struggles to grab a clean shirt. "Jess, wait!" He grabs her discarded t-shirt and turns to go after her, but the hall is empty. She's already gone.

**Next up? **Provenance's Sarah.


	4. Sarah

**A/N:** I watched _Provenance_ a few times before writing this and then I watched the end a couple more for good measure. I know first person is really hit or miss, but I wanted to give you something that was more than just a regurgitation of what was on the show. I hope I succeeded...

Many thanks to **stephaniew** being an extra set of eyes.

**Disclaimer:** I don't own _Supernatural_.

Chapter 4: Sarah

I try to justify it to him. To point out that I'm standing here, living and breathing. That I'm not his girlfriend. That I didn't die. That he saved me. That I'm not afraid of taking anything he has to give me.

But he just looks at me with those puppy-like eyes. Eyes that make me long to drag him up to my room. To protect him and keep him safe. To hold him close and heal him. Because he just looks so...lost. Broken. Defeated.

I ask if he'll come back and see me again, but even as the promise tumbles from his lips I know the answer. This will be the only time I ever see him.

Things are awkward as I walk him to the door. He's stiff and I'd give anything to ease his tension. I think about my wish. A kiss. I think about the handful of times I could have made it happen. How I could have demanded it as payment for the provenances. How I could have stolen it when he told me to make a wish in the first place while we were waiting for Dean. How it would have been so easy to pull his lips down to mine as he lay over me on the hardwood floor of Eleanor's living room.

As the latch clicks into place and I lean against the gallery door, I know I've missed my moment. That I should've taken the chance, been the woman my mother would have wanted me to be. That I should've grabbed Sam Winchester and kissed the living daylights out of him.

But wishes only get you so far. You have to be willing to take action.

~ ~ ~ ~ Supernatural ~ ~ ~ ~

I hate good byes. More than that I hate Dean for leaving me to face Sarah. That he picked up on her little cue and left us alone.

I hear her tell me that I'm not cursed, that she made it through. That she's here because of me. But what sticks in my head is the thought that she wouldn't have been anywhere near that house if I hadn't let her in - that she could have died because of me.

What she doesn't say is that I need to forgive myself and let go. She doesn't know the whole story. Maybe if she did she wouldn't be so kind, so understanding. Maybe she'd be content to let me walk out the door without another thought.

She's almost shy when she asks if I'll come back. At that point, what am I supposed to say? No? That the last thing a girl like her needs is to be around a guy like me - someone who leaves things broken or worse in his wake?

So, I smile because she's smiling. I tell her of course I'll come back. I lie the way I've watched Dean lie. It just feels right to give her that for some reason. And the thing is, I can almost let myself believe it...because who knows? Maybe I will see her again. It could happen, right? Someday?

It's awkward when she walks me out. It's awkward because, for the first time since Jess, I feel something other than empty. I like this girl. But I need the ache. I need the pain of losing Jessica to keep me from the pain of losing someone else.

I want to hug her, but I know I shouldn't. We walk side by side to the door and I continue through it. I won't look back. I can't.

I'm halfway to the car when Dean's words ring in my ears asking if this is what Jess would have wanted for me. And he's right. She wouldn't have wanted this at all. She wouldn't have wanted me to feel so cold.

In a few long strides, I'm back. I pound on the glass. When she opens the door, her eyes are shining. I kiss her, greedily taking everything her candy-coated lips offer. I revel in feeling something...everything.

When we part, her fingers creep up my chest and curl around my neck. She pulls my mouth back down to hers. The kiss she gives me makes me feel alive. Free. Like maybe, finally, I can move on.

**Next up:** _Heart_'s Madison.


	5. Madison

**A/N:** I hate that this one is so short, but given the brevity of elapsed time from when Sam walks out of the room with Dean until we hear the gun shot, it has to be. God, this episode was so sad...poor Sam.

Can you believe we're through the first five? This one is running away from me...

To **stephaniew** - thanks for the smiles, love, friendship and betaing. You're truly amazing!

**Disclaimer:** I don't own _Supernatural._

Chapter 5: Madison

She watches as Sam walks back into her living room, gun in hand. She sees the tremble in his fingers and the tears that wash over his face. He looks lost, scared even. She wants to comfort him, longs to take the pain away.

So she moves forward. Advancing quickly, she stretches up on tiptoe and pulls his mouth down to hers. She kisses him roughly, her tongue tangling with his as she strokes the back of his neck.

What starts as an effort to comfort him soothes her. She finds her heartbeat slowing and feels less afraid. She knows she's doing the right thing. That asking him to save her is for the best. She's sure of it in the way she's sure the sky is blue.

The need for air devours her. She gasps when they come apart and dives right back in for another deep kiss. Pulling away, she sighs and stares into the blue-green depths of his eyes. She forces a smile. She does it because she knows he needs every last bit of strength he can muster. "Just make it quick," she says quietly. "Okay, Sam?"

The _pop_ barely registers. She feels the sting and feels her body falling. Strong arms catch her. They hold her as she sinks to the floor. His lips press against her forehead. The last sound she hears as her world goes dark is the muffled, "I'm sorry," that falls from the lips of the gentle giant. "I'm so sorry..."

**Next up: **Bela


	6. Bela

**A/N:** I've had this idea for a while, but I fumbled with little details necessary to make it work...until my pal **stephaniew** came to the rescue. Thanks, Steph...I'd be lost without you!

**Disclaimer:** I don't own _Supernatural._

Chapter 6: Bela

Sam answers his cell on the second ring while at the same time flinging the door to the motel room open.

"Bela's on her way there, Sammy," Dean barks over the growl of the Impala in the background. "Whatever you do..."

"Uh, Dean?" he cuts in. "You're a little late..."

Bela reaches out and snatches the phone from Sam's grip. "Well, hello, Dean," she purrs, "pity you've left poor Sammy here unprotected."

"You bitch," Dean snarls. "I swear, Bela, if you..."

Smiling at Sam, her brow raised, she terminates the call. She tugs at the belt on her overcoat and removes it, tossing it over the back of one of the chairs sitting at the little formica table in the corner. "You have something I want, Sam," she instructs, trailing her fingers over the buttons on his shirt.

Sam opens his mouth to say something, but immediately shuts it. He's not falling for it. He won't give in.

He watches as she reaches up to pull the pin out of her hair, releasing it to spill in dark waves over her shoulders. She tilts her head to the side and smiles, stroking the pendant at her throat. "You know you're going to give it to me, so why bother with the song and dance?" she asks flippantly. "What's it going to take?"

Sam remains very still as she circles him appraisingly. "You've got nothing I want," he tells her curtly. "And even if you did, Dean has the vial." He immediately curses himself for giving up that they even had anything in the first place.

She strokes a hand over his hip as she comes to face him. "You can't con a con woman, Sam," she scoffs. "If Dean had the Dragon Tears, he wouldn't be in such a hurry to get back here."

Warning bells sound in his ears. Suddenly he doesn't just think she has an advantage, he _knows _it. "Bela," he warns, trying to sound threatening. "I don't know what you think you're up to..."

"Who me?" she questions, batting her eyes innocently. "I'm hurt..."

"Cut the act," he bites.

"Can't we just have a friendly chat?" she asks, her fingers stroking over his cheek. Their eyes meet and hold. Though he towers over her, the heels she wears lessen the gap between them.

Bela inches closer, her lips a mere whisper away from Sam's. "I'll even ask you nicely," she whispers.

He holds his breath. Her eyes are an impossible shade of green. It's mesmerizing and strangely hypnotic. He tries to shake it off and she takes the move as resistance.

"Please, Sam?" One hand on his shoulder as the other providing just a hint of pressure to the back of his neck, she pulls his mouth down to hers. She nips at his lower lip, sucking it sensuously between her own to ease the sting.

Bela expects him to fight her and pull away, but her charm works. She feels it warming against her chest. When his arms go around her, she sighs and allows the gentle pressure of his tongue to invade mouth and swirl against her own. Pity she didn't have more time to play with his delicious body...

Her hands snake down, stroking against Sam's thighs. She swallows the rumble of desire that spills from his lips and slips her hand into his pocket. Her fingers close around the vile and she smirks. _Child's play_.

Backing away, she twists her hair back into a knot and reaches for her coat. "It's always lovely to see the Winchester boys," she says, slipping her treasure into the pocket of her trench. "But, this, Sam, was a true pleasure."

Sam just stares at her. He lacks the will to move, can hardly breathe. He knows this will be a problem later, but trapped in the fog of Bela's kiss he isn't sure why.

Her hand closes around the door knob and she casts one last fleeting glance in his direction. "Until next time, love. Give my regards to Dean..."

And, just as suddenly as she arrived, Bela Talbot is gone.

**Next up: **Ruby


	7. Ruby

**A/N: **I wrestled with how I wanted to handle Ruby's kiss. So, I talked it over with my pal and beta **stephaniew**.

We agreed that seeing things through Ruby's eyes - especially in light of how Season 4 played out - had lots of potential. But I still wanted to change things up a bit. This one is written as sort of a _Real World_ confessional. I'm unsure how I feel about it, but Steph says it's her favorite and she asked that I not change a single word.

Head on over and check out **stephaniew**'s stuff...she's thinking about taking on some Sam. Let's encourage her!

**Disclaimer:** I don't own _Supernatural._

Chapter 7: Ruby

It's a rarity for a demon to escape Hell's gate once, let alone twice. You thought the 40 years Dean Winchester did in the pit was rough? Born a witch, I sold my soul and joined my father in Hell in - wait for it - the year of _their_ Lord 1349. For you chuckleheads that can't handle the math, that's 7,908 years. I had it a hell - pun intended - of a lot easier than Dean, though, because my soul was black to start with.

While on that topic, Dean is far more my cup of tea than Sam ever could have been. But it's sort of a situation where Daddy gives you a puppy instead of a pony for your birthday. And Sam was such a puppy. Dear Lucifer, the amount of innocence that oozed from his pores was enough to make me wretch.

It was fun though. I can't lie...well, I could lie but I won't. I thought the blonde college student's body was an exciting vessel. Right up until I found that comatose minister's daughter - she was right up Sam's alley. Wide, innocent eyes and soft curves. Delicious in the lick your lips kind of way.

And he did. I remember the first time I kissed him with that body. The way he resisted my hold on her. The way he clawed against me riding her flesh before lapping at her - _my - _saucy little mouth and sucking on her lips. His fingers dug into her skin in a way that I knew would leave bruises. He pulled her hair and nibbled at her. I could feel him going dark even as I felt her tight little body growing wet for him.

That was when I knew I had him. Right. Where. I. Wanted. Him.

**Next up: **Demon Gina tangos with Soulless!Sam!


	8. Gina

**A/N:** The idea of doing a Soulless!Sam kiss is something I found incredibly intriguing. There was one familiar face that was a last minute addition...I think after reading this you'll know who it was and be able to guess why...

As always...thank you to pal **stephaniew** for supporting my efforts.

**Disclaimer:** I don't own _Supernatural_.

Chapter 8: Gina

They circle each other, the hunter and his prey. The raven haired demon moves with cat-like precision. She knows the danger of the man before her, knows that he's an empty vessel.

The old Sam Winchester - the one who had run with her sisters Meg and Ruby - would have tried to save the meat sack she inhabited. Through exorcism or the use of his telekinetic powers, he would have dispelled her true form from the body of the Sunday school teacher. Poor thing would wake up in the leather bustier and tight pants not knowing what hit her, but she might've been able to work the package to her advantage.

But this Sam - the upgraded soulless model - was unpredictable, merciless really. He was unafraid to shed the blood of innocents in furtherance of the cause. The only chance she has is to disarm him of the knife tucked into the back of his belt. A weapon she hopes he isn't aware she's noticed.

She lunges at him, her mouth meeting his as she tries to distract him. She'd heard things from Ruby. Heard the wild things Sam could and had done with his mouth that rocked her in ways she hadn't thought possible. And as he grabs her hair, tugging her head back roughly, she feels it.

She feels the heat of a body made for wicked and immoral deeds. Feels the body of the woman she inhabits responding to it. Feels the thick black threads of lust and desire threading through her veins, sewing her up in sinful knots of pleasure the more vicious and threatening he becomes. Her stomach twists in painfully and all hedonism fades as she stumbles back and away.

A slow, yet undeniably diabolical, smile spreads across his face as he watches her fall, watches as she stumbles to her knees. A red glow spreads through her chest and up through her throat. It glimmers from her open mouth as her vessel's eyes grow dark. Drawing the knife from her belly - the knife she recognizes as a demon blade - it clatters from her blood-soaked fingers to the floor.

He watches with rapt fascination as she falls in a heap. Picking up the weapon and wiping it against the front of his shirt, he slips it back into the casing at his back. One less demon to contend with. One more innocent soul lost.

He's as cold as the body lying on the floor and - not for the first time since his return - he feels absolutely nothing...

**Next up: **Jo...yeah, okay, I get that she's gone...but if you are at all familiar with my writing you know my muse ships Jo and Dean, so...bear with me?


	9. Jo

**A/N: **I wrote OC Kait as a love interest for Dean in _The Green Eyed Monster_, but I also write Dean and Jo. I debated for a bit about whether to make #9 Kait or Jo because each woman would bring something to the equation because of her relationship with Sam.

Obviously, Jo won...

**Disclaimer:** I don't own _Supernatural_.

Chapter 9: Jo

It's been 7 hours and 28 minutes since Dean had nearly broken the door down trying to get Sam inside. And it's been 6 hours and 32 minutes since she managed to push Dean out of the room so she could work on Sam's injuries. It took 64 stitches and two rolls of gauze to patch him up this time and between the look on Dean's face and Sam's determination to fix what he had broken while his soul was trapped in the pit, she's sure the Winchester brothers will be the death of her...again.

She loves them both, but she's not sure how long she can keep this up. How long she can watch them come back beaten and broken. How she would cope if one of them came back alone. Movement from the bed catches her eye and she scrambles to sit beside him.

"Jo?" he whispers, a big clumsy hand reaching to touch her face in the darkened room.

She cups his palm to her cheek. She's long since put the events of the past behind her. The closer she gets to Dean, the more they become family and she honors her mother's legacy by taking care of those she considers her own.

"Dammit, Sammy," she says softly. The fact that she's tough does nothing to keep the tears from filling her eyes. "You're killing him. You're killing us both..."

She hears him draw a shaky breath. "I gotta fix it, Jo," he whispers, his voice almost childlike.

She thinks about how they struggled to regain their friendship following his possession, but she knows this is worse. It's worse because he doesn't remember what happened while his soul was in Hell, being tortured as the shell of his body tortured the creatures he hunted. "Whatever it is, Sam, we'll get through it. We can..."

"Not this time, Jo," he answers, his voice strangled. "Too late..."

She knows it's the combination of drugs and pain talking. She's almost certain he won't remember their conversation in the morning. She smiles ruefully. He's lost much of the innocence he once had. She knows there are things that eat at him. Things like Duluth, even though he's apologized. Things that, not unlike his big brother, he doesn't talk about.

As his eyes drift closed, he mutters a name. It's so soft that she almost misses it. _Halley._ She presses her hand to his cheek. He's burning up. Standing, she brings the hand she holds to her mouth and dusts her lips softly over his knuckles before placing it across his chest.

She dips a washcloth into the basin of cool water on the nightstand. Wringing it out, she makes her promise as she mops his forehead. "I'll find her, Sam," she tells him. "I promise I'll find her for you..."

**Next up:** Who is Halley? What is her relationship to Sam? Join me for the final chapter to find out! Until next time...


	10. Halley

**A/N:** I can't believe we've reached the end of this series...

I struggled with who of the women in Sam's life would be best to write stories for. That's why this idea was so appealing for me - it was a chance to try out different characters and see who would work best. I received a request to write more Sam and Jessica following Chapter 3 (and thanks to **celeste301**, I have an idea!), so look for that soon. I'm also open to other suggestions you may have. Drop me a note in a review or PM?

A big thank you to all of those who have supported me along the way. Your reviews gave me confidence and made me smile through it all.

**Disclaimer:** I don't own _Supernatural_.

Chapter 10: Halley

The world around him swims to focus in bold technicolor. The landscape is painted in hues that seem almost unnatural. The leaves on the trees are brilliant reds, yellows and oranges. They almost burn together as they reach toward a sky the color of a robin's egg.

What gets him most though is the quiet. The only sounds are the rustle of leaves in the soft breeze and the shuffle of the rocks beneath his shoes. Closing his eyes for a moment, he's sure he hears the sound of flowing water.

Though unaware of his surroundings, he isn't afraid. He's calm. Completely at peace in a way he hasn't felt for as long as he can remember. Breathing the crisp air deeply, he shoves his hands in his pockets and continues to stroll at a leisurely pace. He's not sure where he's going and, somehow, it doesn't really matter.

Coming to a bridge - the old, covered kind, weathered and painted red - he sees a young woman staring out at the river. She's dressed in faded blue jeans and a purple sweater. Her long hair is the color of wet sand and falls down her back in a thick braid.

He approaches cautiously. She seems familiar and yet he can't place her. Years of hunting have taught him to expect the unexpected. _Is she a demon? Has some other monster invaded her flesh, holding her captive?_

She chuckles, turning to face him, her head tilted to the side as she continues to lean on the railing. "I figured you'd find me here if you looked long enough," she says softly. Smiling at him, she offers her hand.

His brow furrows in confusion.

"Come on, Sam," she teases. Her voice and laugh are lyrical. "Don't you remember where we met?"

Sam remains motionless. He tilts his head, eliciting further laughter as he gazes at her with a puppyish expression.

She steps closer, growing quiet when the look on his face fails to change. "You really don't remember, do you?" she lets out a breath, her large blue eyes darkening to an almost cobalt. But the emotion behind them isn't anger. It's almost relief. "This is where we met," she tells him.

He looks around, sure he'd remember this place. It was rather quaint and idyllic. Surely if he had been here, he'd remember. "I..." he starts.

"Of course," she says, gazing back out onto the water. "It didn't look like this that night. Guess you could say things finally got back to normal."

_So he'd been here on a hunt. But when?_

Taking his hand, she tugs him forward. "Walk with me?"

It isn't hard to keep up with her, he takes one step for every two of hers. Glancing sideways, he notices the pretty, pink glow of her cheeks. She's vibrant. There's something almost etherial about her and he finds himself filled with and odd sense of dread.

They walk until they reach town. It's small and maintains the rural atmosphere of the path they followed to get here. Sam sees a single traffic light and notices the tidiness of the storefronts.

They reach a little bar and enter to find it empty. He works to get his bearings having missed a look at the sign above the door as she pulled him along. He reaches out, trying to grab a cocktail napkin or a book of matches from the bins at one of the corners.

She smiles up at him, her eyes softening. "This bring back any memories?" she asks carefully.

He sinks into the booth she's lead him to and ponders the situation. It's obviously important. She told him she knew he'd been looking for her. Told them they'd already met.

Searing pain rips through his temple with a blinding flash of light. He works to maintain focus - to push past the pain and grip the memory he knows is waiting on the other side. his grasp comes up just short. The fingers that reach out for the brass carousel ring come up empty.

Her hands are cool as they touch his face. They ease the agony that shreds him to pieces. "Shhh," she whispers, her lips fluttering over his.

The kiss is soothing and offers comfort. He kisses her back, cradling her face between his palms and encouraging her to sit in his lap. His breathing quickens as he realizes this isn't the first time he's kissed her. A name forms on the edge of his tongue as it dances against hers. He pulls back suddenly.

"Halley...?" he asks, his voice quaking.

She nods. "This was where we shared our first kiss..." Halley answers. He watches in horror as bruises bloom around her neck and her skin pales. It appears that the life is flowing out of her. Suddenly fearful, she stands up and backs away. "But that's not how it happened..."

He bolts upright to find himself in bed. His t-shirt is damp and clings to his chest. The memory - the real one, the one that tells him what really happened - hits him full force. He remembers her. He remembers what happened between them.

She wasn't a demon. She wasn't a thing that went bump in the night or something he'd hunted. She was an innocent. A victim.

Worse than that, she was _his_ victim.

**A/N:** I have parts of Halley's story sketched out...any interest in discovering more about what happened between her and Sam?


End file.
